You Shouldn't Have Done That
by kittykat2892
Summary: A compilation of one-shots/more-shots of the Jadusable Haunted Majora's Mask Cartridge ARG. I would appreciate constructive criticism. Enjoy! I will also dedicate specific chapters to specific users, so look for your name!
1. Note and Disclaimer

I would like to make this the first and only chapter I must do this.

I am an avid fan of Legend of Zelda AND the Jadusable Haunted Majora's Mask Cartridge ARG occuring even as I type this up. Note the key words, however. _'I am an avid fan.'_

Therefore, I am in no way affiliated with Jadusable, nor am I 'canon' or have any behind-the-scenes knowledge. All the one-shots/more-shots in this compilation are _not_ to be taken as canon to the ARG. The ideas contained here within are solely that-my _ideas_. I've taken creative license with Jadusable's ARG (which I hope he can forgive me for, but considering we're starting to have pairings shipped...).

Obligatory disclaimer: _I do not own the Legend of Zelda franchise, nor do I own or have any rights to Jadusable's ARG. The only things that I might own are my own ideas. They may be someone else's...But I put them into a fanfiction, lol._

So with all the obligatory information out of the way, please enjoy any and all updates and chapters in this compilation! Constructive criticism is most certainly welcomed, but not required to get updates. I would just like to know how I'm doing is all :3

-kittykat2892


	2. Majora's Mask Cartridge Part I

_" I'll admit I jumped out of reflex and I laughed nervously as he handed me a Nintendo 64 cartridge. It was the standard gray color, except that someone had written Majora on it in black permanent marker._

_-dayfour(.wmv)"_

_**Majora's Mask Cartridge Part I**_

A day, one that could have been the same as any of the days in the past-one that could have continued on as normal-was anything but normal for one pre-teen child.

In a crowded middle school hallway, children were chatting about this and that, whether they should bother with homework that was too late to finish, about the upcoming school activites, about what was for lunch-your typical middle-school conversations.

One child was not conversating, nor was he even smiling. Blonde hair and blue eyes stuck out like a sore thumb as the boy walked through the cramped hallway, other students aware of him yet not moving out of his way, making it difficult for him to continue to his destination.

Ben was not a very social child, and even the teachers had problems persuading him to talk with them. Ben was an A Honor-Roll student, perfect attendance, and a 4.0 GPA as of this year. This was the cause of most of his anti-social attitude. Would you want to spend time around bullies?

Ben reached the double doors leading out of his school, wondering if his remaining teachers would notice his absence. He shook his head, blonde bangs falling to hide his eyes. He had chosen a seat in the back corner, as far from the teacher as possible. His other teachers...Well, they would notice solely because of his perfect attendance streak. He knew his Father would be upset with him for destroying his perfect attendance, but at the moment, he didn't feel much like thinking of the consequences.

Ben opened the double doors quietly and slipped out of the school.

Hefting his bookbag into the right place on his shoulders, he commenced walking to, by far, his favorite place to spend time. Ben could have the whole area to himself for hours on end, and never see another human being. Wildlife was plentiful, of course, but he didn't mind interacting with nature.

Worn sneakers slapped the sidewalk as the sun's rays hit Ben's back, causing sweat droplets to appear on the back of his neck beneath his hair. Blue eyes swept over the sidewalk and road before him, and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, crossed the street when given right of way, and continued on.

The child's mind wandered to different topics as he walked; how his Father pushed him to be his best, how pleasing his Father made him miserable at the same time, how his Mother...No, he wouldn't go there.

The blonde sighed as he turned, heading through a deserted parking lot. He knew why he could handle being miserable. He liked when his Father smiled. It made him feel like all his suffering was worth the trade, because his Father's smile showed his accomplishments amounted to something.

Ben yelped as he felt his foot twist inwards, quickly stepping back and catching himself before he could cause real harm to his body. He frowned in annoyance, kneeling down and massaging his throbbing ankle. He turned his blue-eyed glare onto the item that was in the middle of his path, and his eyes widened in bewilderment.

A Nintendo 64 cartridge was just lying in the middle of this deserted parking lot, looking almost lonely, and a bit too innocent, when Ben thought about it. The child hesitantly picked the cartridge up, standing as he did so, backpack forgotten by his feet. He switched the cartridge to his other hand, noting the title was written in Sharpie.

"Majora's Mask..."

For some inexplicable reason, Ben felt a thrill of fear run down his spine, and the day seemed to darken even as he looked up at the sun glaring down at him. He decided that maybe it wasn't such a wonderful day to visit his spot. Ben glanced at the game cartridge again, remembering that he owned a Nintendo64 that was hidden deep in his closet under some old clothes he didn't like. Yet maybe he shouldn't claim the game as his own. The day hadn't seemed so gloomy and dark until he had discovered the thrown-away game.

The blonde shrugged as he tucked the cartridge into his bag. What better thing did he have to do today? He wasn't going to head back to school, and his Father was at work until late that night. No one would be any the wiser. If the cartridge was a piece of junk, as it looked to be by it's appearance, he could just throw it out, no harm done to anyone. It had just been his mind playing tricks on him when the day had turned gloomy. It was a completely normal, if sweltering, sunny day.

As Ben retraced his steps, heading towards his home, he stopped in his tracks, eyes wide as he glanced around.

"I...I could've sworn I just...heard someone laugh..."

Ben looked around a few more times, before shaking his head, grinning at his paranoia.

Little did he know that another person was grinning, though in a mischiveous, almost evil way to battle Ben's good-natured smile.

Ben had no idea the kind of hell he was about to be thrown into...

-kittykat2892


	3. It's Just a Game, Right?

_"For such a shady looking game cartridge, I was impressed at how smoothly it ran - literally just like a retail copy of the game save for a few minor hiccups here and there (like textures being where they shouldn't be, random flashes of cut-scenes at odd intervals, but nothing too bad). However the only thing that was a little unnerving was that at times the NPCs would call me "Link" and at other times they would call me "BEN"._

_-dayfour(.wmv)"_

_**It's Just A Game...Right?**_

When Ben arrived at his house, the lights were all off, seeing as how his Father usually worked late nights and his Mother was hardly ever home, instead preferring to spend time with the gossiping crones she called friends. Ben's nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought of the company his Mother insisted on keeping. He didn't enjoy being in the same vicinity of those women, especially when they were involved in one of their gossip sessions.

Ben retreived the key from under a loose stone in a flowerbed that his Mother had planted and then ignored after a month of caring for the flowers. The only reason they were still alive, if barely, was because Ben had decided to take pity on the poor excuses of flowers, and because Ben despised his Mother in her act of ignorance.

This hatred may have stemmed from a few different mediums, but the main cause for this hatred would be the feeling of ignorance from his Mother towards him. She spent most of, if not all, her time with those crow-like friends of hers, leaving Ben to fend for himself until his Father was able to steal away from his corporation.

Ben unlocked his front door, and returned the key to its resting place under the stone in the lonesome flowerbed before entering his dark and silent home. It did slightly hurt that his parents weren't hardly around. He felt that his Father's approval made up for that, however.

The pre-teen threw his bag unceremoniously on the kitchen table, turning to root around in the fridge for some kind of snack food, seeing as how he _had _missed lunch. As Ben dragged out leftover lasagna from the night before, he froze as a chill slowly crawled its way up his spine.

A strange, yet terrifying thought, flashed through Ben's mind of turning around and coming face-to-face with a demon, or to find someone watching him. The boy did _not_ want to turn around, yet he couldn't just live in the fridge until his Father got home. That would be an interesting story to tell his Father, nonetheless, but he highly doubted that would get even a small grin out of his Father. The blonde-haired boy gulped, gathering his courage even as he felt his hair stand on end, and twisted around in one quick movement to find...

The Majora's Mask cartridge out of his backpack and laying in the middle of the kitchen table. Ben almost dropped the container of lasagna he was holding, but was able to catch it before it dropped and flew everywhere. A glance around the kitchen told him that no one else was in the room with him, and a quick moment of holding his breath let him know there was no one else in the house but him.

The boy's heartbeat slowly returned to normal, even as the feeling of being watched continued. Seeing nothing, and not knowing what to do, Ben shrugged, a few sweat drops glistening on his forehead, turned to the microwave, and heated up the leftover lasagna. If he were an adult, Ben knew he would probably explore ever nook and cranny of his home, yet he was a child, and he was not a terribly brave child. He knew he would stay in the lower half of his house until his Father came home later that night.

"Well...Until then I guess I have the option to play that game..." Ben turned, giving the cartridge an almost distrustful glance, and set his heated up food on the table in the area opposite his bag. He hesitantly pushed the cartrdige out of his personal area with his fork so he could at least have the simulation of a peaceful lunch.

Giving what had happened, Ben mused, he probably should throw the game out to sea the next time he had the chance. He could go and do that at this very moment, if he felt obliged to do so. Yet, as all gamers are prone to, he felt a spark of curiosity as to how, and even why, the game found its way to the middle of his table. Then, of course, there was the continuing feeling of being watched, that he speculated had to do with the cartridge as well.

Ben kept his blue eyes on the cartridge all through his meal, even as his body became accustomed to the feeling of eyes on him so he no longer had goosebumps or was sweating. With his plate cleaned of any edible food, the child stood and placed the dishes in the dishwasher, and seeing it almost full to bursting, once again cursed his Mother at her inability to be mother-like, and started the dishwasher himself.

Glancing back at the table, he noted the game cartridge had moved back into the middle of the table. Whatever was watching him apparently wanted him to play this game, for whatever odd reason. A feeling of foreboding filled Ben. If some sort of spirit wanted him to play this game, then he really shouldn't...Yet his damned curiosity wouldn't let him rest if he didn't find out what was going on.

Growling, the child snatched the cartridge from the table and stormed into his living room, throwing the game onto the coffee table and heading towards the hall closet just outside the living room, dragging down his old Nintendo 64 and all the required accessories. Hooking up his game system, he couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement run through his small frame. For some reason, a ghost had followed Ben home, and was even now watching him. Paying extra attention to the feeling of the ghost watching him, Ben felt that the spirit was also extremely excited.

Scooping up the game, Ben had one last doubtful moment, just the smallest hint of uneasiness in the back of his mind, but that was gone as soon as it had appeared.

Latching the game in the cartridge slot, he started up the game and began to play...

A few hours later, Ben heard his Father pull into the driveway even as the car headlights flashed across the back wall behind the television. Two lamps were on in the living room, both in a corner opposite each other so the light was even throughout the smartly decorated room.

Worry gnawed at Ben for more reasons than just his Father being home. In fact, he was relieved beyond all reason his Father was home. His Father would know what to do, and Ben could tell a little white lie about skipping school if the administration hadn't notified him when he didn't show up to his first class after lunch.

The front door opened and re-latched, and Ben heard the familiar rustling of his Father putting his coat on the coat rack just inside the door as he slipped his shoes off.

"Welcome home, Father."

"Ben." His Father called back in greeting as he traversed by the living room into the kitchen. Ben knew he had to wait. The blonde-haired child sat on the brown tartan couch, the yellow Nintendo 64 controller in his loose grip, blue eyes watching the television screen intently.

Twenty minutes later, Ben's Father joined his son in the living room,, sitting quietly beside him. Anyone comparing father and son could see the boy had acquired his father's blonde hair and maybe even his nose, but that was all he had in comparison to his father. His blue eyes, small mouth, and small stature was acquired through his Mother's genes.

"Your school called me, Ben. You didn't attend your last three classes..."

Ben felt a small wince grace his features, yet he continued staring at the television.

"All my homework is done, all the work in those classes is still caught up. Nothing will be messed up by my absences, Father."

"Your Perfect Attendance has been destroyed."

Ben winced openly. He could hear the dusting of disappointment in his Father's voice, and knew the man was not smiling.

"Father. On my way home, I found...I found the cartridge in the game system. It's...It's weird, Father. I..."

"Spit it out, son."

"Father, I think it's haunted..."

Silence encompassed the room, and an even stronger silence existed between the Father and son duo. Ben felt himself begin to sweat again, droplets dripping down his neck to soak his shirt collar. He knew what his Father was involved with, so it wasn't completely unreliable to believe his Father would believe him.

"Son, just because of my religion, you would take advantage of it? To try to trick me into believing my son skipped school because he's being haunted?"

"No, it's not that, Father! I skipped school because...well, because I just couldn't take the other kids anymore. Then I found the game on my way home and I was curious!" Ben cried out.

The blonde adult turned to him, his eyes flashing dangerously, and Ben recoiled into the arm of the couch.

"Enough, Ben. Gather up your game system and your bag, and go to your room. Today was a long day, and I need to commune with Her..."

Ben opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated the action a few times, before finally giving in, and respecting his Father's demand silently.

One last glance at his Father saw his eyes closed as his mouth moved in a muted whisper to his Goddess.

Later that night, Ben had his comforter and sheets pulled high up above his head, even as he made sure his shaking body was in the fetal position. He had awoken from one hell of a nightmare...

_He was surrounded by children that looked almost impish...It seemed as if they might have been playing Ring Around the Rosy circling him, their mouths wide in a hideous, teeth-filled grin, even as blood dripped out, staining their teeth pink. This flow of blood left a ring around the boy._

_This was disconcerting, of course, but the thing that terrified Ben was their eyes - they had no eyes. Where there eyes were supposed to be, there was only an empty hole, yet it seemed all the children were staring at him._

_'You've displeased him...'_

_Ben's eyes widened at the quiet, cutting hiss that encircled his dream self._

_'Yet that is nothing to rival __**my**__ displeasure with your trying to out me...I was kind enough to you to show you the game. I was kind enough to persuade you to __**play**__ the game. __**My**__ game.'_

_Ben yelped as the imp child he was looking at suddenly snarled at him, and he paled at the maggots crawling out of its eye sockets._

_'You will regret trying to disclose my existence to your Father, of all people...'_

_All the children were snarling at him now, maggots, blood, and other disturbing things flowing from their eye sockets. One child had a centipede skitter out of the empty socket, crawl across his cheek, and slip back into his gaping mouth. Another child had locusts fly out of his sockets and at Ben as the child passed in front of him. This continued on, all the children still bleeding, still marking out the circle of blood around Ben. The disturbing creatures continued flying, crawling, jumping, slipping, flooding out the empty eye sockets, so by the time the children suddenly screamed in unison as they burst into flames, Ben was sobbing. Surrounded by a circle of fire and blood, Ben's sobs became hysterical as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself._

_'You will learn to __**fear me.**__'_

_The child felt the fire's intensity behind him diminish, and he turned, a look of relief and hope coming onto his face, when he came to face-to-face with what could possibly be the worst nightmare in existence._

_Ben woke with his terrified screams echoing in his ears..._

Even now, awake and under his sheets, Ben was crying quietly, his chest shaking even as his body shook in fear. He could feel whatever it was watching him again. He didn't want to see this spirit. Not in the real world.

'It's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game...It's just my imagination, a creepy game making me have nightmares...It's...It's just a game. It has to be.'

With that thought in his mind, Ben slowly closed his blue eyes, trying to calm himself long enough to fall into a light sleep.

The child screamed as the sheets were ripped away from his small body, burying his face in the pillow underneath him so he was blind.

A stinging pain on his back made him scream again, muffled by the pillow his face was pushed against. A series of stings came, causing him to full-out sob into his pillow so by the time the pain had diminished and the feeling of being watched had disappeared, his pillow was soaked.

Cautiously and painfully, Ben clambered out of his bed, out his room, and to the bathroom down the hall, so terrified he ran as soon as his feet hit the carpet. He caught himself before he slammed the bathroom door shut, flipping on the lights at the same time.

Ben turned to look in the full-length mirror, removing his shirt, and he cried out in horror.

Across his back, his name was spelled out in horrific, bloody gashes, all three letters in capitals.

**'It's just a game, right, Ben? It can't hurt you...'**

With the haunting whisper ringing in his ears, he heard the spirit begin to laugh, and what a terrifying laugh it was...

-kittykat2892

(A/N: I must dedicate this chapter to someone specific for two different, small details I used synonomous with her (his?) posts. Wayward Soul, thank you for inspiring my dream sequence's additions. Thinking back to one of her posts, she said she had tried to make the eyes of the Children look like maggots were crawling around in them. Another little detail I need to thank her for is the yellow Nintendo controller. This user has amazing artwork hanging around the Fan-Created Works forum in The Artist's Corner. Anyone interested, check her comics out. They will chill you to the bone.)


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